


Followers Fic Requests

by Sunevial



Category: Discord Murder Party (Podcast)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2020-02-27 13:25:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 10,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18739930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunevial/pseuds/Sunevial
Summary: I had the bright idea to let people on tumblr submit fic promptsSome of them actually have Followers canon worked into themSo here's some short stories based around them





	1. Fear

**Author's Note:**

> phoenix6fire: Although this may not happen due to the characters abilities, can you write a fic of if Lieutenant was dying in the arms of Old Priestess and how that conversation would have gone down?
> 
> So fun fact, something like this actually did happen in canon (it’s a long story that involves a lot of behind the scenes worldbuilding), so here’s a slightly reworked story of these events.

His movements were shaky.

In the thousands upon thousands of years they had known each other, fought by each other’s sides, worked tirelessly on the behalf of their Lady, he had always been the constant through the storm. 

His wings were falling apart.

A creature of the void barely had substance, shells didn’t matter to creatures that barely existed anyways. He was strong, unwavering, unrelenting, never faltering and never truly hurt. Not since that first meeting.

His eyes were closed. 

His eyes didn’t close unless he was dying.

Supporting him with her arms, Priestess dragged the frail form of Lieutenant through endless walkways of red string, focusing on anything but the ragged mutterings and wide-eyed fear of her partner. She knew that he shouldn’t have tried to break that curse, she knew something that delicate should’ve been left to Witch, she knew this would end badly, and now look where they were. 

“Priestess…why…why c-can’t…I c-can’t see,” he choked out between sputtered breaths, his already fragile body shaking with every word. 

“Because you’re an idiot and tried to do something beyond your limits. Now shut up and don’t talk, I’m taking you to Witch,” she tartly replied, trying to keep down the growing quickening of her own heartbeat. “It is her job to deal with curses. She will know how to fix you.”

Heavy footsteps bounded down the strings as Huntress came into view, breathless and bloodied from some altercation. “I…I heard what happened,” she said, looking at the battered form of the Lieutenant. “What…what happened to him?”

“He did something foolish and paid the price,” Priestess said coldly, forcing the limp body into the much stronger arms of the amazon. “He needs immediate attention and Witch is already preparing the spells. Get him to the apothecary. Immediately.”

“Right, got it,” Huntress replied, picking up the voidling and racing off into the distance. Before long, the two of them were well out of sight.

Priestess gave along sigh and found a cluster of strings to sit down in. He was going to be fine. Witch was the best user of arcane magic in the known worlds. She would fix him. She had to fix him. And if she died trying, well, she knew the price when she gave up her soul. She had a job to do, and that was to fix their Lieutenant. They could replace a witch. They couldn’t replace him. 

Nothing could replace him.

The strings began to shake, quivering under the stress and strain of something fidgeting within the entangled web. Eyes narrowing, Priestess looked out into the vast nothingness, scouring for any sign of movement.

It was some time before Priestess realized that she was the source of it all.


	2. A Day Out on the Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had the bright idea to let people on tumblr submit fic prompts
> 
> Some of them actually have Followers canon worked into them
> 
> So here's some short stories based around them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hewhowalksbehind: Some fluff between OP and LT doing something he doesn’t really understand

There was something to be said about being able to disappear within the chaos of thousands of people crammed into such a small space. That being said, the clamor of all of those people was a touch off putting for a being who had mostly known silence his entire life.

“Priestess, may I ask a question?” Lieutenant asked, his eyes carefully darting around the city streets with a mix of confusion and interest. 

“Of course, dearest,” the foxy woman responded, brushing a lock of auburn hair behind her ear. 

His eyes shifted to the long rows of storefronts, packed with mannequins displaying clothes that seemed far too impractical to be of much use. “For what purpose exactly are we visiting a mortal city?” 

Priestess chuckled, adjusting her purse ever so slightly to better fall across her torso. “I thought it was obvious, dear,” she almost purred. “I am in need of a new outfit for the season, and I thought it would be a good lesson in teaching you mortal fashion. We really do need to get you a new set of clothes.”

Lieutenant frowned ever so slightly, looking down at his simple ensemble. Pants, shirt, shoes, all still functional, clean, and well maintained. His gaze then turned to Priestess, dressed in a light green blouse and long skirt. “I was under the impression that my chosen garments were still functional, and that your wardrobe was sufficiently stocked with clothes, given that you have a habit of changing your outfit daily.”

A bright laugh escaped Priestess’s lips. “Dearest, this is not about functionality or need,” she said with a glint in her eyes. “This is about artistry and fashion, about keeping up with the current styles and putting a little variety into your life. All my current clothes are so out of date, after all, and times are changing rather quickly.”

“Then…you are doing this because someone has decided that what you used to wear is no longer socially acceptable?” he slowly responded, wracking his brain for the correct string of words. “I was under the impression that you did not care for what the mortals thought of you.”

Fiddling with her glasses a touch, Priestess scoffed ever so slightly. “I certainly do not care how they see my actions, but I certainly do care about how they see my appearance.” She placed the delicate frames back onto her nose and snuffed. “It does no good for people like us to stick out. Keeping up with the latest fashions makes sure that if people do notice me, they notice my impeccable taste in clothing and perfectly brushed hair, not, well, much of anything else.”

He slowly nodded his head, thinking over Priestess’s words. It would make sense to keep as low a profile as possible when not working on the Captain’s orders, given how past events had resulted in less than ideal circumstances. There was a certain logic in blending in with physical accessories instead of a constant use of magical misdirection. 

Turning to Priestess, Lieutenant gave a couple more seconds to word his statement properly. “Then what would you recommend I wear instead while in this timeline?”

“I am so glad you asked, follow me, dearest.” With a veritable spring in her step, Priestess lead the two of them to a large department store and swiftly dragged him over to the men’s section of the store. He watched with a calculating glance as she pulled item after item off of shelves and racks, depositing them in his arms without so much a care. Before long, a large pile of different cloth shapes rested in his arms.

“Now, go to the changing rooms and try them on. And be sure to show me each one. I want to see how well the outfit is going to work on your body type,” Priestess said, or perhaps more correctly, demanded.

Nodding his head, he brought the incredibly large pile of clothes into what resembled a small closet lined with far too many mirrors to be practical, Lieutenant pulled on and off a small wardrobe’s worth of shirts, pants and jackets. Priestess vetoed nearly all of them, saying something about how none of them quite matched his ‘look’ well, save for a very simple set of clothes: a light purple hoodie over a white t-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes.

“This is not all that different than my current outfit,” Lieutenant said as Priestess began depositing an equally large pile of clothes into his arms, though this time they were likely meant for her.

“Perhaps not, but it certainly fits your type much better. It is casual and yet unassuming, perfect for our knife in the dark,” she cheerfully replied, pilling on another round of sweaters and stockings. 

It took a great deal longer of time for Priestess to try on all of her choices, given that she also decided to have him inspect and judge every outfit. He wasn’t exactly sure why Priestess would have him look over a seemingly endless number of clothing combinations more commonly found on human females, but he could agree that many of them suited her personal ‘look’ well.

At the end of it all, she decided on a number of different floral print skirts and long draping sweaters, paying for everything with a wad of cash that made the cashier’s eyes widen in shock. The two of them walked out of the store with bags in tow, the sun just setting behind the skyscrapers.

Priestess sighed and gave him a gentle smile. “Now, wasn’t that fun?”

Lieutenant thought this over for a moment or two. “It was…certainly enjoyable to be able to learn something new, and the new ensemble is not something I would refuse.”

She chuckled and playfully grabbed onto his arm, resting her head against it. “We should do this more often. After all, we still have to get you some proper formal wear. I think you would look dashing in a suit.”

A pause.

“What is…a suit?”


	3. Bad Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had the bright idea to let people on tumblr submit fic prompts
> 
> Some of them actually have Followers canon worked into them
> 
> So here's some short stories based around them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Witch gets a vision of all her fellow followers dying then herself then the vison ends
> 
> TW: BODILY HARM, BLOOD, DEATH

Their youngest was the first to fall, a simple severing of the string sending Young Priest onto his knees with eyes rolled back into his skull, making it all too easy for a sword to be driven between his shoulder blades.

Pages swirled and fire burned and a young woman could do nothing but shriek with an old fear once again coming to life, Bookkeeper’s skin going up in flames like the endless tomes that made up her collection.

Voices layered one on top another, violent shakes coursing through the body of Part Timer as his continual state of life and unlife finally came to its horrific conclusion, his screams echoing as his body decayed before his very eyes.

Rivers of blood coursed down Huntress’s torso and neck as she swore at the top of her lungs, fire still burning in her eyes even as the ground opened beneath her feet and dragged her screaming into the abyss.

A flash of white followed by the an awful sputtering of Advisor choking on his own blood, his form wavering as if made of nothing more than light and shadow, then vanishing before he could so much as blink.

Purple feathers fell from tattered wings, Lieutenant’s infinite eyes closing one by one with deep bruises along the lids as he stumbled inch by inch to the ground, wide eyed with the fear of the void, before falling silent and blind.

Battered from years of disbelief, face filled with an emotion Old Priestess had wrenched into the deepest places of her heart, desperately reaching out for someone, anyone, as her presence faded away into cold, uncaring earth.

A knife in her stomach, rendering old scar tissue and conjuring memories of tearing labor pains and the mother’s anguish of a child lost as Witch looked down at her bloodied hands and wailed.

* * *

The dream broke, and Witch bolted upright, bedsheets clutched between clammy fingers. Sweat running down her temples, she slowly laid back down into her simple bed and turned onto her side, eyes refusing to focus.

Perhaps…perhaps it was time to give up sleep…


	4. A Brief Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had the bright idea to let people on tumblr submit fic prompts
> 
> Some of them actually have Followers canon worked into them
> 
> So here's some short stories based around them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bryancroidragon: Alright, try this for a prompt: one of the followers is turned into a horse.

“I don’t care if this is a ‘high priority’ hit, I’m not changing shape just so you can ride on my back,” Huntress grumbled, glancing into the town with arms crossed over her chest.

“It’s the 1200s, Huntress, it’s already suspicious for a woman to be riding alone, much less two travelling together,” Witch replied, fiddling with her torn dress as she smeared a little more dirt onto her face. “Come on, it’s just a couple hours.”

Huntress sighed in disgust, her nose turning up. “Can’t we just sneak in at night and kill everyone in their sleep? It’d be so much more fun and practical than…this.”

Straightening up, Witch took one last look at her dishelved outfit and appearance. “Because I need to get something out of their healer, and I can’t do that if they’re dead. Or, well, I could, but it would be a lot more difficult.”

“Alright, fine, but you owe me,” Huntress said under her breath, closing her eyes. Her form began to waver and twist in on itself, arms and legs growing longer while her torso stretched out with a grunt of effort. A couple seconds later, a great chestnut brown horse stood before Witch, looking about as annoyed as a horse could reasonably convey.

“Why thank you, Huntress,” Witch said with a smile, climbing onto the back of her transformed friend and sitting side-saddle.

Once she was settled in, Huntress gave a snort and the two of them bounded off towards the town at breakneck speed. Storm clouds began to roll in behind them.

Soon enough, those would be the least of their worries.


	5. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had the bright idea to let people on tumblr submit fic prompts
> 
> This is what happened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spireisadragon: If that fic event is open still... maybe something where Witch gets a good dream for once? or switch the character to Anabel, whichever is convienent
> 
> Anabel's dream will appear in a different work

**Witch’s Dream**

Light winds skipped across the lake and under Witch’s dress, picking up the fabric and lightly teasing into the air. Modest cottages dotted the rim of the lake, sides painted in cheerful white and tastefully decorated with well kept gardens. The scent of summer roses and freshly cut grass filled the air, complimenting the sound of dogs barking and children at play.

For her part, Witch…or perhaps it was better to think of herself as Catherine Albright, simply sat on her picnic blanket and leaned her back up against one of the trees. It was…quiet here. Quiet, calm, serene…

“Mom! Mom! Look what I found!”

A young girl, hardly seven years old, ran from beyond the trees, brown hair nearly free of its braid and gray eyes shining with silver light. She stumbled over the hem of her dress as she stopped at the very edge of the blanket, arms filled to the brim with wildflowers of every color. Her face was full of wonder and unending joy, the brightness of youth and the hope of the future.

She was her everything.

“Rebecca and Nancy told me there was a place we could gather all kinds of flowers, and I didn’t really believe them, but they took me down this secret path and there was this huge open field, and I knew you really like plants and I wanted to bring back a big bunch for you so you could use them in some of your cures and-”

“Breathe, Gale,” Witch said with a laugh, reaching up and gently pushing down on her daughter’s shoulder. “It sounds like you three had all kinds of fun today.”

Gale took a large inhale and plopped down next to her mother, spilling the blossoms onto the blanket as she did so. After taking a couple deep breaths, she picked up one with white petals and twirled it between her fingers, squinting ever so slightly with determined eyes. “What’s this one again?”

A smile crossed Witch’s face as she pulled her daughter into a hug, using her other hand to brush the petals. “You’re a curious little one, aren’t you?”

Smiling wide, Gale nodded her head vigorously before burying her head into Witch’s side. A giggle escaped her lips, the sounds like fairies dancing through the air.

Chuckling ever so slightly, Witch carefully took the flower into her own palm. “Well, you see how this one has five petals…”


	6. A Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had the bright idea to let people on tumblr submit fic prompts
> 
> Some of them actually have Followers canon worked into them
> 
> So here's some short stories based around them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon: Anabel meeting OP, because obviously that would go well
> 
> So fun fact, a version of this happened right before the second DMF game was hosted. Here’s a heavily altered version of events.

A tear appeared in the endless expanse of strings, a portal between reality and this little corner of the void. With a cautious step, Anabel placed one foot onto the woven red strings, then another, testing her weight on the impossible physics of this realm. It had been some time since she had dared the void at all, much less a portion of it as hostile as the realm of The Murder God and her games.

When she was absolutely sure she wasn’t going to tumble into the abyss, she turned back to the tear and held up her arm. A void string was wrapped around her wrist in a loose bracelet, held together by one of the Lieutenant’s wing feathers. Against her better judgement, she placed her fingers along the tear and ran them along the portal until there was nothing to be seen.

And so she was alone in the void. Not particularly ideal.

With a quick sigh, Anabel began aimless walking along the woven paths, feeling the memories buzzing within the strings and the free magical energy in the air. It was…enticing, almost, being surrounded by so much power once again. With barely a second thought, she reached out into the void and called the energies into her body. Tan skin turned gray, peach hair turned light blond, modern clothes turned ancient, and scarf turned into a short teal cloak. 

A ghost of a smile appeared on her face as she pulled her hood over her head. Now properly attired, she continued on her wanderings, taking the woven strings into deeper portions of the void.

She still wasn’t exactly certain why she had taken Lieutenant’s offer to watch him run a Game. The two of them had met the day before, a chance meeting of two powerful beings in a city park. His story, though long and convoluted, was clear; he was the right hand of a murder god, a honed killer who had her undying loyalty. He was powerful, deadly, and certainly someone she had no business talking with, much less accepting an offer to watch mortals ritualistically slaughter each other.

And yet…he had been the first in a long time to treat her with that level of respect. Not to mention that the games, while horrific, had piqued an academic interest of hers for quite some time.

Dipping lower into the void, Anabel came to an intersection where the strings became far more densely packed. Pulling her hood deeper over her face, she began weaving between thick clusters of thread. More than anything, she tried to ignore the bodies suspended above her, some cradled gently and others dangling from makeshift nooses. 

There was nothing she could do to aid them. It wasn’t her place to interfere, and she didn’t have the power to introduce time into a place where it was meaningless.

“Well, well, well, it seems we have a wanderer here,” a voice said, so proper and sickly sweet that it grated on Anabel’s ears. A woman walked out of a nearby alcove, eyes closed behind neat spectacles. She wore a gown of green and gold, her hair neatly combed out of her face and behind her ears. “What is a thing like you doing in a place like this?”

Anabel slowly turned around, holding up her wrist and exposing the red-string bracelet. As she did, hundreds of thousands of images flashed before her eyes. This was not just any woman; this was an old god heavily wronged. “Your crow was kind enough to extended his wing to me.”

“Ah, I see you’ve met our Lieutenant,” the woman said with the most passive aggressive smile Anabel had ever seen on anyone, mortal and immortal alike. “It’s rare he gives out feathers to anyone, especially to ones not loyal to our lady.”

“A seat in the audience is what was offered, presumably as a gesture of curiosity.” Anabel’s voice was low and slow, every word laced with as much power and pride as she could muster up. “As for me, it is rude for a guest to make demands of a host.”

“Isn’t that sweet, he’s made a friend. And all on his own too,” the woman said with an even tone and a half smile. “Very well then, I think it would only be fair for you to remain for the game, especially if my partner wanted you to watch.”

Anabel gave the woman a slight bow in return. “My thanks to you. I am Lady Alexendra, miss.”

“Priestess will do,” she responded with a friendly tone mixed with ice cold malice, turning towards a cluster of strings. “Follow me, then, Alexendra. I’ve made some tea, and I would hate for it to go cold.”

With a careful nod, Anabel kept pace with Priestess as best as she could.

Because that was no request. That was an order.

And she was in no position to refuse.


	7. Monopoly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> churrobird: consider: the followers playing monopoly on game night and the rage that ensues during it

The following are a collection of quotes from the fabled ‘Monopoly Game Night’. While no one remembers exactly who thought this was a good idea to play amongst a group of especially trigger happy immortals, what everyone does know that the game resulted in a three day long war of attrition between Advisor and Old Priestess, the game room being set on fire, everyone getting stabbed, and a month where all seven Followers at the time refused to speak to each other.

We cannot guarantee that each quote matches with the person named.

* * *

“You _asshat_ , those were my railways and I beat up Part Timer for them fair and square!” -Huntress

 

“I’m rich, I’m rich, you all bow to _me._ ” -Witch

 

“FEAR ME, FOR I CONTROL THE SNACKBAR.” -Part Timer

 

“If I understood the concept of rage better, I have the inkling I would have flipped the table by now.” -Lieutenant 

 

“Yes, of course I can do that. It says so right there in the rules.“ 

"It didn’t _before!_ " 

"Really? If so, please, by all means, prove it.” -it can not be reliably proven which lines were said by Advisor and which were said by Old Priestess

 

“Pull that bullshit rule again and I will dig up the first edition manual for the sole purpose of giving you a paper cut with it.” -Bookkeeper

 

“You are a disgrace to life, liberty, and every cow who has ever had a shred of dignity.” -Old Priestess

 

“If I want to add in seventeen hostile flumphs, by this clause here, I have every right to!” -Advisor

* * *

Monopoly is now banned from Game Night.


	8. The Birthday Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had the bright idea to let people on tumblr submit fic prompts
> 
> Some of them actually have Followers canon worked into them
> 
> So here's some short stories based around them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Onyx: The Birthday incident should be shared, methinks

Jumping down from the step stool, Witch planted her hands on her hips and quickly glanced around the rented out conference room. Streamers hung from the rafters, a tasteful arrangement of interwoven black, purple, and blue ribbons complimenting the balloons lazily floating in the corners. A small cake sat in the middle of the table, surrounded on all sides by a number of still steaming dishes. 

Smiling brightly, she picked up a broom and quickly swept up the ribbon clippings. All things considered, she didn’t have a ton of time to prepare the room before her guests would arrive. The whole operation had been top secret, planned in hidden corners of her shop with Witch using every excuse in the book to try and get out from under the eyes of the ever watching Lieutenant. It had gotten easier recently, seeing as the voidling had been using his ‘surround sight’ less often as of late.

After all, if Priestess was to believed, today was the anniversary of when Lieutenant joined up with the Captain and gained a name. And a technical birthday deserved a surprise party. It would be a nice change, a fun little get together with her coworkers, and something of a gift for her leader. 

He _did_ say that he enjoyed experiencing new things.

Witch dumped the clippings and dust into a dustbin just as someone rapped on the door. Stifling a giggle, she turned off the lights and jumped behind one of the plants near the door, hiding her small form in the foliage. She reached into her bag, fingers deftly finding a small party popper. With calculating eyes, she watched the door swing open and the slightly bewildered Lieutenant stepping into the room. 

“Witch? Is there something you wanted of me?”

She pulled the party popper, releasing a sharp bang into the room. “Happy Birthda-!”

That was the last thing she reliably remembered as hundreds of thousands of eyes flared at once and her mind went blank.

* * *

According to Old Priestess, she and Bookkeeper ended up finding a city block reduced to smoking rubble and broken, babbling humans instead of a nice party. It had taken them a combined month to get her mind back to full working order, and nearly as much time to convince Lieutenant to drop his hyper-vigilance.

Since then, Lieutenant has refused to ever again voluntarily close his eyes.

Surprise parties are also universally banned.


	9. Tasteful Finery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had the bright idea to let people on tumblr submit fic prompts
> 
> Some of them actually have Followers canon worked into them
> 
> So here's some short stories based around them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> onyx: OP taking the other two old guard to get their formal wear, and making a deal of getting LT’s measurements

Sunlight danced off the glass panes, bouncing off the looming buildings overhead and bathing the mid-morning air in a cheerful array of colors. It was a cool day, the lightest of breezes blowing past and whispering the gossip of hundreds of thousands of souls. The work rush had passed some time ago, leaving the city streets just crowded enough to get lost in, but not so crowded that it felt smothering to walk on foot. 

In other words, a perfect day to go shopping.

“I must thank you both for accompanying me, shopping is such a tedious task to do alone,” Priestess said with a slightly over dramatic sigh, flippantly gesturing with a hand as she glanced between her entourage. Lieutenant on her right, Advisor on her left. Just as it should be for the Old Guard. “And besides, the two of you are incredibly overdue for new formal wear. With the games up and running, we’ll all need to look our best for the game nights, and I already took the girls out last week. I must say, both of them look absolutely gorgeous.”

Advisor gave a nod, a genuine smile splitting his face. “I have to agree, my old suit is _horrendously_ out of date,” he replied. His eyes were trained on the storefront windows and the passersby, his gaze soaking in the current fashion trends like a sponge. “Hm…what do you think would stand out more? Coattails or an elaborate collar?” 

“For you, dear, both is the only correct choice.” Priestess was still debating whether or not her Lady’s decision to recruit such a chaotic entity was a good one, but unlike her partner, this one actually understood the concept of looking good for the purposes of looking good. With a slight smile, she momentarily leaned her head against Lieutenant's arm, curling her arms around him protectively. “As for you, dearest, I already have a couple of ideas. Nothing too flashy, of course. I’m thinking simple, clean cut, definitely subtle on the details. Something to refine what’s already there.”

The voidling gave her a slow look, the gear turning visible in his eyes and in the movements of his face. “Then I will defer to your judgement in this manner, though I still do not see a real purpose to clothes that are only to be worn on certain occasions.”

“Are you familiar with the concept of ceremonial clothes?” Advisor asked as they reached the door of the objectively best tailor in the city. With a flourish, he opened the door and graciously gestured for the two of them to enter first. 

“They are meant to be a symbolic gesture of formality for the purposes of a ritual,” Lieutenant replied, delicately taking Priestess’ arm and lifting her over the door lip. “However, even with such concepts in place, it still seems a waste of effort and time for how little they are used.”

Priestess paid little mind to their various gestures, as helpful and as considerate as they were “Do you remember what I said when we went shopping last time?” Priestess asked, going up to the empty counter and ringing a bell. “The look is part of blending in. It’s meant to fit the aesthetic of the event as much as it is for the ceremony. Besides, dressing up is fun and enjoyable, and I get to wear a floor length dress and pretend I am a proper and refined lady of the court.”

“You say this as if you weren’t one already,” Advisor said with a chuckle as a young woman walked into the room. His smile brightened almost immediately. “Ah, Miss April, it’s lovely to see you again.”

“It’s always a pleasure, Mr. Claus, Miss Damiana,” April replied with a smile of her own, quick eyes bouncing between the gathered immortals before resting on Lieutenant. “And…I don’t believe we’ve met before?”

“This is Oliver,” Priestess said with a reserved smile, instinctively pulling her partner ever so closer. “A colleague of ours in desperate need of new clothes. Considering the work you’ve done for everyone else, I was hoping you could work your magic with him.”

The woman laughed ever so slightly as she rummaged behind the counter. “At this point, Miss Damiana, you’ve given me enough regular traffic that you could bring a cat to me and I’d agree to make something for it,” she said, glancing to Advisor and gesturing to the back room. “I’ll start with you, Mr. Claus, since I’ve already got your measurements. I’m guessing something pretty elaborate?”

“You would certainly be correct,” he said with a slight wink, pushing past a thick velvet curtain and disappearing in the back room.

With a huff, April pulled out a number of cloth-working paraphernalia and set it onto the pristine countertop. “Alright, I’ll get started with that and be out in a bit to get your measurements, Mr. Oliver.”

“Why don’t I save you the trouble?” Priestess asked, leaning over and plucking a cloth measuring tape from the bunch. She opened her eyes ever so slightly, a slight sultry smile crossing her face. “I’ve done a bit of tailoring in my time, and I would hate for you to have to do any extra work. I’ll get everything you need and then we’ll talk about designs.”

A knowing light came into April’s eyes, or at least enough of one for Priestess to know exactly what the young woman had interpreted. She replied with her own slight smile and set a clipboard on the counter. Picking up one of her many pencils, she turned on her heels before joining Advisor in the planning room. 

Mortals were so easy to manipulate.

“Follow me, dearest, the changing rooms are right this way,” Priestess said, walking over to a small set of doors while flipping through a laundry list worth of paper. “Now, I do hope you won’t mind, but I will need you to remove your hoodie and potentially your shirt for this. There’s quite a bit I need to get. Torso, hips, waist, arms and leg length, dear gods this just keeps going.”

“If it is for the sake of accuracy, then I have no objections,” he replied, stepping inside one of the rooms. 

“Excellent.”

Having already peeled off his hoodie, he paused for a moment as he started into the mirror. “Priestess…what exactly were you thinking for my formal get up?”

“I am so glad you asked,” she said with a smile.

The door shut tight behind them.


	10. First Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had the bright idea to let people on tumblr submit fic prompts
> 
> Some of them actually have Followers canon worked into them
> 
> So here's some short stories based around them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> onyx: Did witch meet LT before her Birth?

“Darling, could you run this to Lieutenant for me?”

Before Witch could so much as think of protesting, Priestess shoved a package into her arms. It was rather beautiful to look at, all wrapped up in fine cloth and tied with an expertly fashioned bow, though she wasn’t sure if the purple smoke and flesh-charing heat was meant to be there. Even so, that was likely the least of her concerns at the moment. She kept a firm grip on the parcel as she looked up at her mentor, tone even and words as careful as she could choose them. “You…want me to…what?” 

The other woman glanced up from her writing and peered over the rim of her glasses, eyes opening into narrow slits. “Did I stutter? I want you to run this to Lieutenant,” she replied, each word biting deeper into her subconscious. “Our Lady recently found a font of chaotic void magic, and I figured that he would be much more suited to turning it into something useful.”

“That…does make sense,” Witch said while looking at the extremely volatile bundle of magic in her hands, trying to figure out what combination of words would result in the least amount of pain in the near future. “It’s…well, it’s more that I thought I…wasn’t allowed to meet him.” 

Priestess pursed her lips together ever so slightly. “That was more for your sake than his, deary.” With the deliberate slowness of a predator playing with their prey, she planted her elbow onto a table and rested her chin on her hand. “He is incredibly powerful, after all, and his shell still has a habit of…slipping in front of mortals. If you were to see that, even with what you know and what we’ve done to…improve that fragile body of yours, he could still break your mind beyond repair.”

Feeling the blood drain from her face, Witch nevertheless gave a slow nod. “Then…why are you sending me now?”

“Think of it as a test,” Priestess said with a grin, showing off rows of sharp teeth. “Dealing with beings far beyond your comprehension is going to be your new norm, and not only is he one of them, he is one of our special little group. Our knife in the dark. And my partner. If you can’t even do that, then there’s no point in us doing any more for you.”

Blood pounded in her ears even as she nodded her head, her chest too tight to take a proper breath. She knew her deal. For what was at stake, for what she had been promised, she couldn’t risk it. Not now, not ever. “I…I will take it to him, then.”

Yellow eyes flared a wolfish gold. “Excellent. Have fun in the Void.” 

The floor fell away from her feet, and Witch plunged into the nothing. 

For a few moments, she was in freefall, speeding past small gatherings of strings before touching down on a bed of woven red thread. She shuddered, knowing those same threads stitched together her flesh and supported her bones. Though she knew that she was by no means alone in this space, she had a sudden and desperate need to find someone, anyone to be around. Even Her Lady, for all the pain that sadistic murder goddess had put her through, would be better company than nothing at all. Her own heartbeat was unpleasantly loud, her breathing deafening. 

Clutching the package close to her chest, she took a shaky step forward along the paths, choosing a byway of strings at random. Priestess hadn’t specified where or when or even how to find him, not that her mentor would ever make anything easy for her. Then again, she didn’t need the specifics. This was the Lieutenant, a creature of a void, a being of endless seeing eyes that never closed. Always watching, always on guard. It was more likely he would be the one to find her.

All she had to do was wait. 

“You should not be here.”

Nearly jumping out of her skin, Witch turned around to a presence that almost definitely had not been there moments prior. A man stood there, or at least the shape of a man stood there, tall and built to move with impossible speed. He was dressed in simple peasant’s garb, clothes bit more for function than fashion. Her gaze, however, went to the large wings sprouting from his back, dark and swirling with stars, and to eyes colder than ice. 

Simple. Imposing. 

Entirely not human.

Somehow, this scared her more than if he had not looked human at all.

“Oh, um, hello,” Witch stammered, clearing her throat as best as she could. “You…must be the Lieutenant.” 

“I am,” he said, each word no longer than it had to be. “And you are the Captain’s newest witch.”

“That is…correct,” she said with a nod of her head. “My name is Margaret…not that it matters much anymore.” 

He raised a single eyebrow. “You were the one to cheat during a game, yes?”

She could almost pinpoint the moment when her heart plummeted into her chest, taking her body temperature with it. It was suddenly cold…far too cold. “I…did cheat her of my death, if that is what you’re asking..” 

“Then I must ask why you now walk among the Void. She keeps the new ones close, especially one as troublesome as you” His gaze pierced through her body, looking at her from more angles than should have been possible. She could feel eyes all around her, hidden beyond the veil, but unmistakably looking at her. Watching her. 

With trembling hands, she offered him the still-smoking package, keeping her eyes locked on his. She could not afford to show any more weakness than she already had. Not here. Not to him. “Priestess asked me to give you this,” she said, keeping her face as neutral as she could muster. “It’s void magic. She thought it would be more useful with you than with her.”

Lieutenant glanced it over, eyes twitching ever so slightly in thought. Gesturing with one finger, the package leapt from her hands and into the space between them, floating on its own. “It was reckless of her to send it with you,” he said, furrowing his eyebrows. “The energy in here is corrosive to mortal bodies. Had you kept it on your person much longer, you would have suffered grievous injury.”

“I…figured as much,” Witch replied, looking down at her bright red hands, the flesh clearly burned in a number of places. That would take some time to heal. “I have a feeling that she was trying to see me dead.” 

“Seeing how she has treated the witches thus far, she was likely expecting you to perish here.” The statement was said without malice or spite, as if it was simply a matter of the fact.

“That…doesn’t surprise me,” she said with a sigh. Carefully reaching into her dress pouch, she pulled out a small jar of salve and rubbed some of it onto her hands. “I…should probably be getting back to her, then.”

“You should,” Lieutenant said with a nod of his head. With a quick flick of his wrist, a two-dimensional dagger manifested in his hands, black as night and with a hilt made of stars. He slashed at the space between them, dagger piercing the nothing and tearing a hole between worlds. “Even so, thanks are in order, given that you did save both her and I the trouble.”

“It’s nothing, really.” Witch gave a small smile, the pain in her hands already rapidly dissipating. She took a step towards the makeshift portal, peering out towards the small cottage they were using as a base for the time being. “I…suppose we’ll be seeing each other later, then?”

He tucked the package under his arm, eyes giving her one last glance over. “Only if I have need to enact Her will, and that is something neither of us will find enjoyable.”

A slow and knowing nod, and then she was gone.


	11. The One Called Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had the bright idea to let people on tumblr submit fic prompts
> 
> Some of them actually have Followers canon worked into them
> 
> So here's some short stories based around them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> arahul-abyssia: Writing requests, eh? How about Wholesome Followers, because I like few things more than seeing the horrible people that are our edgy murder OCs being... not horrible.

A door in the depths of the Apothecary opened up, hinges creaking from lack of oil and disturbing a thin layer of dust. Witch slowly poked her head into the hall, scanning for any signs of disturbance or unwelcome visitors. Hearing nothing and not sensing any disturbance in her wards, she slipped out, shutting the door tight and clutching a bundle close to her chest. She ran down the hall as fast as her feet would carry her, taking as convoluted a path as she could through storerooms and stone steps.

She just had get out of the store, and more importantly out of the Void, without anyone noticing. Do that, and she’d be home free. No one would know, and she could explain her disappearance easily enoug-

Lieutenant’s voice echoed all too close to her ears. “Witch, why do you have a baby?”

Witch froze, instinctively pulling the infant closer as she glanced around the room. Standing there were all of her ‘colleagues’, each looking at her with their own brand of confusion, curiosity, and suspicion. She couldn’t see their eldritch leader, but she could feel him standing directly behind her, looming over and looking at her and the child from every possible angle.

Well. Fuck.

“Oh, hi everyone, what are you all doing here?” Witch said with a breathy laugh, carefully pulling a bit of the blanket over the child’s face. 

“It might be a better question of where have you been, my dear,” Priestess said, adjusting her glasses and putting on her fake worried face. “You haven’t responded to summons or letters, the doors to your shop have been closed for weeks, you missed the last meeting, not that anything really important happened at it…and our tea time.”

Witch glanced around, feeling her body shiver and shrink up under so many gazes. “I’m sorry for disappearing so quickly, I’ve just been a little busy with a deal, that’s all. Must’ve gotten a little lost in my work. How long has it been?”

“Cut the crap,” Huntress said, folding her arms and scowling. “You still haven’t said where you got the kid.”

“Like I said, I was working on a deal and this little one was part of it,” she said, putting on her sweetest smile. “Witches ask for newborns all the time.”

Paper crinkled as Bookkeeper thumbed her way through a small collection of scrolls, looking them over with more curiosity than Witch had seen in centuries. “According to all of your recent goings on with mortal contracts, I don’t see any record of newborns being traded or used as collateral for quite some time,” she said, clapping her hands and spiriting the rolls back to the Library. 

“It’s also so out of vogue to be dealing in newborns,” Priestess said with a wave of her hand. “So loud and so _messy_.”

Advisor cocked his head, a light smile crossing his face. “You’re a terrible liar when caught off guard, Miss Witch,” he said, stepping closer and looking down at the child with a mixture of pride and sympathy. His eyes were swimming with magic, a type that in games was used to pry into the true nature of everyone’s roles and places. A moment passed as his smile slowly widened into utter delight. “Oh _how_ interesting this is indeed.”

“What did you see?” Lieutenant asked, moving to get a better look at the infant in her arms.

The chaos entity stepped back just far enough for a dramatic bow. “I must say, my congratulations on the birth of your daughter.”

Everything went silent.

Priestess’s hysterical laughter broke the spell over the room as she doubled over and wiped away tears. 

“You have a _daughter_? Since _when_?” Snapped from her shock, Huntress crossed the room in one step, peering over the child with clear disbelief scrawled across her face.

“S-Since…always?” Witch hesitantly replied, feeling rather cramped with so many people surrounding her. The secret was already out, best to explain what was going on anyways. “I was…pregnant during the game, and, I…lost her, and I didn’t want someone so…young in Her hands, so…”

Priestess’s laugh died down to little more than a snorting chuckle as she moved to inspect the child with her own two eyes. “Well, _that_ certainly answers the question of why you made a deal with our Lady in the first place, I was wondering how you got off so light,” she said, smiling gently at the baby and making a little cooing noise. “How precious. Such a tender little morsel if I’ve ever seen one.”

“She’s not _food_ , give the kid some room, you look like you’re going to eat the damn thing,” Huntress muttered, her own expression softening despite her harsh words. “What’s her name?”

“The Captain calls her The Promise, I…decided on Abigail. Gale for short.” Witch said, a smile returning to her face. “I was, well, building her a new body. It’s not easy trying to make something that will grow.”

A light gust of wind fluttered through the room as Bookkeeper floated over, glancing over the girl from above. While she still sported her normal neutral expression, her eyes were kinder than normal, her writing a little more leisurely. “If it took you even half of the time it took to build me or Huntress, that certainly would explain your absence,” she said, writing a couple of lines across her page. “Such a delicate piece of work it must be to make a child’s body.”

“Are all infant mortals so small and helpless?” Lieutenant asked, passing an eye or two over Gale. “That seems…incredibly inefficient and prone to predation by anything that happens to be larger.”

“Well, that’s why human mothers spend so much time with their children,” Priestess said, gently backing away to leaning on his arm. “Now, let’s step away from the new mother, no need to crowd her on such an important day.”

The seas parted and Witch let out a long sigh, shifting the infant in her arms as some of the muscle tension left her body. Well, this was…not how she was expecting this to go. Ideally, they never would have found about about Gale at all, leaving her safe and perfectly normal and not…mixed up in all of this. But they liked the kid. That was a start. 

“You doing alright? You look like you’ve been through a war zone,” Huntress said, the only Follower to not have fully retreated. She held out her arms, an unusually gentle smile on her face and reflected in her eyes. “Here, I’ll hold her for a bit.”

“Are…you sure?” Witch asked, realizing both how tired she was and how little she wanted to give her daughter to any of these people.

Huntress raised an eyebrow. “You really think I’ve never held a baby before? She’ll be fine, Witch. Nothing’s gonna get to her here.”

Slower than Witch handled some of her most deadly potions and poisons, she lifted Gale up and out of her arms, placing her gently into Huntress’s care. She fussed for just a moment before settling down, taking to the amazon without protest. 

“Aww, she likes me,” Huntress said with a chuckle, bouncing the infant lightly in her arms and walking around the room. “You’re gonna grow up big and strong, just like your mom, you hear me?”

Another fluttering of wind as Bookkeeper floated closer, voice little more than a puff of air. “Are you certain you’re okay with her holding the child? With them knowing?” she breathed, gaze flickering to the other non humans in the room.

Witch sighed a little even as a smile crept onto her weary face. “She’ll be okay. She’s a strong one.”

Perhaps this would be for the better. If there was one good thing about working for a god of murder and death, it was this.

They looked after their own.


	12. New Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had the bright idea to let people on tumblr submit fic prompts
> 
> Some of them actually have Followers canon worked into them
> 
> So here's some short stories based around them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mintlysweet-tea: For the writing requests, what is the weirdest thing Witch has dealt with in the Apothecary?

Blinking away a restless sleep, Witch stumbled out of bed and gazed into the mirror. A familiar face stared back, curiously free of any blemish or scar, eyes still bleeding as they had been for years now. She touched the star at her chest, black as night and cold as death. Shuddering, she pulled on a shawl and shuffled her way into the rest of her new home.

Today marked a full day since her deal was finalized, her mortality forcefully stripped from her body, and truly gaining the title of ‘Witch’. As a gift for being the first to survive the process, Lieutenant and Priestess had gifted her a small realm floating within the shallows of the void. They called it ‘the Apothecary’, a place where she could mix potions and elixirs and poisons, write spells and conjure curses, store magical artifacts and precious ingredients in a place with no true bottom or end.

Still, even if this place was new, there had to be something to explore.

Slipping on a pair of comfy slippers, she shuffled into the hall and started walking. Room after room greeted her, some containing rows of empty bottles and boxes, others holding nearly endless arrays of plants and herbs. A small kitchen, a large room for summoning, a couple of bookshelves in a makeshift library, holding cells and an empty crypt, all as silent as the grave.

Locating a small set of stairs, Witch descended along the stone steps. The walls were slick with condensation, turning to ice halfway down as the temperature plummeted and the light of the upper webs faded away. There were few levels in the stairwell, mostly just hidden rooms or storage units that she could explore later. After half-way to an eternity, her feet hit solid ground, and she pushed open the heavy wooden door.

While the upper void was still and quiet, a light wind whipped around this close to the depths. Strings had melted away into a liquid-like substance, colored like the night sky and lapping at the edges of the stone dock. There was little light this far down, the normal white expanse closer to deep gray.

Pulling her shawl tight, Witch walked to the edge of the dock and took a seat, peering into the liquid void below. Deadly to mortals, a less than pleasant swim for someone like her. That thought probably should’ve scared her.

The fact it didn’t should’ve scared her more.

“Whooooooooo are youuuuuuuuuu?”

Blinking away her thoughts, Witch glanced around the empty nothing before peering deeper into the waters. A large eye gazed back at her, pitch black and shaped like an oval. Well, not the first horrifying eldritch entity she had seen in the past two days. Best to be polite.

“I’m the Witch,” she replied, kicking her feet a little.

“I dooooooon’t knoooooowwww thaaaaaat naaaaaaame,” the creature said, breeching the surface and swimming closer. Upon closer inspection, the creature resembled a rather strangely shaped whale. Colored almost a comical light blue, it looked up at her and gave a little click. “But Iiiiiiiii knooooowwww thaaaaaat smelllllll. It isssssss Hersssss.”

She sighed, shrugging a little. “Oh, yeah, I probably should’ve been more clear,” she said, putting on a small smile. “I’m the Witch of the Murder God. It’s nice to meet you. Do you have a name?”

The whale clicked in what was probably a happy manner, swimming closer still until they were just inches away from her foot. “Naaaaamesssssss arrrrre foooorrrr other creaturessss of the vooiiiiid. Iiiiiii ammm justtttttt a swimmmmmmerr,” they replied, gently nudging her foot with their snout. 

Ever so gently, Witch reached out and touched the whale’s skin. Perhaps surprisingly, their skin felt like a whale’s, leathery and slick to the touch. The void whale clicked and chirped, leaning into her palm expectantly. A bit more of a smile returned, and she began rubbing her hands in slow circles.

“Well, I think you’re a nice swimmer,” Witch said, scooting closer and attempting to give the whale a hug. “Definitely the nicest thing I’ve met while here.”

“Youuuuu givvvvveee niccccccee touchessss,” they replied, clicking a number of times. “Iiiiii wouuuuuld likeeeee to swimmmmmm withhh youuuuuu.”

“I…don’t think that would be a good idea,” Witch said with a laugh, giving them a pat on the head. “Can I give you a name instead?”

They responded with a short click and an expectant look.

“I’m going to call you…Nebbie,” she said with a smile, rubbing their head once more. “Nebbie the void swimmer.”

“It issssss aaaaa goood naaaaaame,” they said, lifting their head into her hand. “Willllll youuuuu beeeee heeeeere againnnn? Iiiiiii wouuuuld like moreeeee petssssss.” 

Witch laughed a little, the first laugh she had felt in a long time. “I’ll be back, don’t worry. I live just through that door and higher up in the void.”

That seemed to be a good enough answer for the void whale, giving her a number of clicks and chirps before nuzzling up against her hand one last time. With a splash, the creature dove back into the void, vanishing as if it had never been there before.

Shaking off her now drenched clothes, Witch could only smile. 

In this utter hellscape of a world, she had made a friend.


	13. Opinions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had the bright idea to let people on tumblr submit fic prompts
> 
> Some of them actually have Followers canon worked into them
> 
> So here's some short stories based around them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon: What is the witch's opinion of the other followers?
> 
> _Author’s Note: Witch is a very broken, very damaged character who has a lot of mental justification for the abuse she endured. As a survivor of abuse myself, I in no way argue that these relationships are healthy. This is a look inside the head of one of my most complex characters, and not everything here is particularly nice. Please seek support and help if you are a victim of abuse. You are not alone._

Old Priestess is her mother, or, well, her not-mother. The fallen god tortured her for years, batted around like a toy to play with and a body to experiment on, worming into to her head and planting seeds that would grow into twisted thorns. So much of her personality was shaped by the woman that there’s now essentially nothing of the woman that she was before. She should fear her, she should hate her, but she doesn’t, because there’s no reason to now. She learned. She got strong. She got her approval. She’s her kit.

In a similar way, Lieutenant is her not-father. Her initial wariness came from the fact he was so alien that there was no possible comparison to anything she knew. Yet despite it all, he was not cruel, more curious than anything else, both about her and the worlds outside the void at large. He respects her, he looks out for her, and in return, she helps him learn about things he cannot easily register. She cares. She’s not sure if she should care. But she cares.

Bookkeeper is her sister, a sister she crafted from flesh and bone, a furious endeavor to make sure that this woman would live. Elven flesh to support faerie-wing bones, djinn blood to replace all she had lost, weaving in anything that would take as her body continually rejected anything that came from a human. She still considers this her best work in building a body, beautifully crafted, strong yet light enough to float. For so long, they only had each other, the only two who once had been human. They do not seem close. That is by design.

Advisor is a breath of fresh air. He is calm and curious, coming to the Murder God of his own free will and taking a deal that was mutually beneficial to them both. In some ways, they all envy him for that, but he is never unkind and he knows his place. His knowledge is nearly unending, his realm a good place to reflect, his willingness to help with few strings attached a relief. She would not say that the two of them are close, but she enjoys working with him. She does not understand him well, but that is to be expected.

Huntress is also sister to her, another sister she built up from scratch for a woman who died years upon years since past. She built her strong, tough, sewed in muscle that could easily shift forms and withstand blows. Her temper is volatile, her regrets are deep, she cannot be swayed and cannot break, and for that, Witch admires her. Perhaps envies her. And yet, the amazon helped raise her daughter like she was one of her own. She’ll never forget that kindness.

Part Timer is her greatest project and her greatest regret. Away raising her daughter when he joined, she was unable to put his body back together, and so returned to find four men sharing one body. Horrified, pained, angry, she rushed back to her shop to find something that could put him back together. Nothing she has tried has stuck. In the time she was away, he also earned the title of the new ‘problem child’ amongst their little group. She thinks he has a good heart. She is concerned it will get him in permanent trouble.

Young Priest is a curiosity, a mortal with only good intentions and a heart that is kinder than all the rest put together. Hesitant, quick to learn, eager to help, head full of doubts and regrets and uncertainty. She sees him reflected in her own eyes, taking a deal not for himself but for someone he loves, and she will raise hell to keep him good and kind for as long as she can. If she can do one thing right with her new form, it will to be keeping him from ending up like her. She doesn’t know if she can. She doesn’t care.


	14. Sparring Match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had the bright idea to let people on tumblr submit fic prompts
> 
> Some of them actually have Followers canon worked into them
> 
> So here's some short stories based around them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spireisadragon: For the writing request: Maybe a sparring match between the Huntress and (whichever Follower who might be a good sparring partner) for stress relief?

“What do you _mean_ you never learned how to properly use your dagger?” Huntress said, face twisted halfway between disbelief and disgust. “That’s gotta be heresy or blasphemy or treason or something.”

Part Timer shrugged, his one good eye falling to the two-dimensional dagger made of the void itself. “I-I think she-she-she g-g-gave up after I-I-I kept get-t-tong pulled through time,” he replied, tossing it between his hands in an almost experimental manner. “B-B-Besides, grenade laun-launchers work just as well-well for kill-killing things and don’t h-h-have m-magical bullshit-t.”

Rolling her eyes, Huntress flicked her wrist. In one fluid motion, her dagger melted and stretched until a Greek falchion rested comfortably in her palm. “I personally don’t fucking care if you hate magic, if you don’t have your tech, you’re dead if you can’t use this properly,” she said, twisting her grip and stepping back into an athletic stance.

“My d-dear Huntress, if you think I-I’m going to fight-fight you w-w-with a weapon from the Iron A-Ages, you must be jo-”

As if she’d give him time to finish that sentence.

She sprung at him like a lioness, slashing down with a quick arm and a furious power. It tore through the exposed muscle on his left shoulder, cutting through tendons like butter before she went in for another strike.

“What the-!” he snarled, bringing up the dagger to try and block the strike.

“That’s the advantage using the ‘magical bullshit’,” she taunted, intentionally landing the blow against his hilt and striking his knees with her boots. He crumpled ever so slightly. “It cuts through immortal flesh-” Bringing her knee up, she gave a sharp jab into his torso. “-and it hurts like hell itself.”

“You could’ve told me that before you stabbed me,” he said through gritted teeth, shoving her away with superhuman strength and jabbing the strange dagger down into her shoulder.

Ducking just in time, she mirrored his movements and jabbed straight into his still-human thigh. “What’s the fun in that?” she said with a laugh, drawing the blade out and jumping back to her feet. “You didn’t believe me before I stabbed you and pain’s the best teacher out there.”

“I’m already in pain!” A fury building in his eyes, he thrust out again, the dagger wavering for a second before stretching into an English broadsword. Surprise flashed across his face just long enough for his other hand to wrap around the hilt. He brought it down with little grace but with a power that obliterated the dirt floor.

Huntress sprang away from the potential skull splitter, grin widening. “There we go, a little unwieldy for a beginner, but hey, baby steps,” she said, holding up a hand and motioning him towards her. “Now, better question, can you hit me with that?”

“I could if you could stand. Still!” he seethed, taking another swing for her torso. Bracing for impact, she caught the sword with her own, crumpling under the weight of the blow. Blow for blow, she couldn’t win, not with such a dinky little thing as her familiar falchion. But, that wasn’t quite the point anymore. 

Give him a little practice, give her a nice challenge for once.

With a surge of raw, primal strength, she forced the blade down and sprang for another jab, this time just catching him under the ribcage. Laughing a little from the adrenaline, she jumped back again, expecting another slow swing.

Instead, the smallest of knives wizzed past her, slicing a thin line right down her cheek bone. 

Whipping around, her eyes landed on the genuinely confused Part Timer, then at the void-thin throwing knife stuck into the back wall. 

“Alright, what the fuck was that?” he asked, the rage leaving his voice and replaced with a clear and smooth bafflement. “What the fuck just happened? How the fuck did I do that?”

Huntress gently touched her cheek, feeling laughter shake her body as it erupted from her mouth. “That, my love, is what using your weapon correctly feels like,” she said with a smile.

Gods above he was dense.

Gods above was she proud.


End file.
